A Life Renewed
by gallant2195
Summary: An AU when Harry's childhood begins to plummet and a cynical fairy godmother becomes his guardian, changing how future events play out for the young saviour. With love, attention and an unusual family dynamic, Harry grows into his own away from curious eyes. WARNING: Dumbledore bashing and my OC will start as a Mary Sue. Learning character development, so critique is helpful.
1. The Terrible Lie

**AN: Not Mine. Belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

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><p>A small child, of five years old, with wild black hair and the brightest emerald eyes stared in astonishment at his uncle and uncle's revolting sister. She was shaking her head in agreement with her brother, while meaty hands brought a decanter of whiskey to her lips. The boy's uncle reiterated and clarified what had shocked the boy, "It's the truth. Your dad was a lazy drunk with no job. He was driving home one night with you and your mum in the car, and crashed into another car. You survived with that freak of a scar on your forehead after being dumped on our front doorstep. You're lucky to be living here with us now."<p>

"Too right, Vernon," the woman told the man. The two adults could've possibly passed as twins with their indulgent waistlines, similar straw hair colour, brown eyes and short necks. She was watching a game on the television set and quite peeved with the inquisitive five year old. She thought her brother had already explained to the boy that he was lucky not to be on the streets. "Now go get us those bags of crisps I brought and make sure to bring the plate of biscuits too." Tears welled up in the boy's emerald eyes. "What's with the sniffling? Go get them now, boy!"

Nodding, the young child trudged his way into the kitchen where his aunt was cleaning the stove before dinner. She was a thin woman, with hazel eyes, black hair perfectly coiled around her head and ruby red lips. Those lips were set in a grim line while she scrubbed the inside of the oven. Trying to be silent, the little boy tried to dry his tears while he pulled the snack from the top of the counter. Thankfully, the crisps were in a bag already, but the hard part was going to be grabbing the plate of cookies down from the counter. He wasn't exactly tall enough yet.

However, the small boy was determined. He put the plastic bag over his shoulder and reached on the tip of his toes for the crystal plate of biscuits. He knew there was an assortment of delicious tasty snacks on it, because he helped his aunt earlier that day. The boy had to be careful though, because they only made one batch.

"Mum! Harry's trying to sneak some of Dad's food!" The high pitch tone rang out from the kitchen doorway. It was the voice of Harry's cousin Dudley. Dudley was miniature version of his father, Vernon, but with his mum's wide hazel eyes. Unfortunately, said whinging had scared Harry and he tipped the plate over his head, dropping all of the treats onto the floor.

"Dudley! Harry! What is going on?" The thin woman asked as she looked out from inside the oven. She saw her son's stance and moved her eyes over to her nephew's still form. Below him was a pile of napkins. "Harry, why were you trying to grab the biscuit tray?"

Twitching, Harry murmured, "Uncle Vernon and Marge wanted their crisps and biscuits."

"That's not true! He was reaching for the top of the tray!" Dudley responded.

"Aunt Marge, Harry. Show her some respect. She's your uncle's sister. Now Dudlikins, what did you see exactly," the thin woman silently sighed. She was getting exhausted from cleaning everything before dinner like her husband asked her to, and sitting in a crouch on her toes was not helping.

"He was staring at the tray for a loooonnggg time before he finally used his hands to reach for a goodie-"

"No I wasn't –"

"Harry, is it your turn yet," his aunt interrupted him, while giving him a stern look.

"No," Harry mumbled.

"Exactly. Now Dudlikins, is that when you yelled out?" She turned to address her son.

"Yeah."

"You know that's my favourite plate. We can't yell when people are touching Mummy's favourite things, because it might scare them and they might break them."

"But I didn't touch it," the stout boy wailed. "Harry did. Why are you mad at me," and thus he began to cry. His mum quickly put her dish towel down and moved closer to her son, pulling him in for a hug, assuring him that she wasn't mad.

That was when Vernon Dursley came in shouting, "What's going on here? Harry, we asked for some snacks and now I see you made a mess. Clean it up and bring the crisps to your Aunt Marge. Why is Dudley crying, Petunia?"

Harry quickly shuffled out of the room to bring the bag with the bags of crisps in it to his aunt, after he put the crystal plate down in front of his aunt. Petunia replied to her husband, "We just had a bit of a misunderstanding. I'm sure if your share those snacks I made today, he'll be right as rain. Besides, he can watch the game with you." She had ended that while her son pulled back to look at his dad in greedy hope as she rubbed his arms in support.

"Sure, Marge'll like that. Go on Dudley, go sit next to her on the couch," Vernon responded kindly as Harry re-entered the room. He then turned to Petunia, "What're doing on the floor, woman? You look unseemly and I see you haven't finished cleaning the stove. How're you going to cook in time for dinner?"

Petunia frowned, "I will be able to get started in another few minutes, Vernon. Please don't talk to me like that."

"Talk to you like what? I asked you to do one thing, while I'm watching the game and you can't do that in a timely manner. I'm only asking how you are going to be able to start dinner if you're still working on that one task."

Petunia sighed in regards to Vernon's attitude and gave him a tight smile, "Don't worry, Vernon. I can do it. Now go spend time with Dudley and Harry will bring out the tray of biscuits to you in a minute. They've just finished frosting." Vernon smiled, nodded, and then kissed his wife's cheek before going back to the parlour to look at the TV.

Petunia turned to her nephew and told him, "Let's get to work," with a forlorn smile. They worked quietly, artistically placing the treats they worked on earlier that morning on the crystal tray with new napkins, before Marge came in around lunch. While they worked, Harry kept staring at his aunt with quick glances. Finally, she asked, "What is it?"

Taking a few moments, the little boy asked, "Did my parents really die in a car crash?"

Petunia stiffened, her lips thinned and she nodded. "Yes. Your father's to blame for his and your mum's death. Look, we're finished. Go take the tray into the parlour." Harry froze for a second, miserable over his aunt's response, and carefully took the crystal plate from her to deliver it to his uncle and his terrible sister.


	2. A Kind Stranger

**AN: No.**

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><p>Vernon and Petunia Dursley were a civil and modest couple to those they were friendly too, friendly to those they desired to impress, and rather less than friendly to those who were less than impressive. Vernon was quite proud of his new position within a drill company. He was ambitiously looking to acquire a more senior position when the time was appropriate, and Petunia couldn't have expressed more pride, except in her son. Dudley Dursley was the apple of her eye and the centre of her world. She was quite happy to boast his toddling exploits. If he happened to be developing more slowly than the other children he was on play dates with, then he was simply a more carefree and retrospective child. After all, the best leaders were introverts.<p>

Marge Dursley couldn't agree with Petunia more, although, that didn't stop her giving suggestions about encouraging him to learn the alphabet or numbers now that he was five. However, she was visiting for his fifth birthday and he deserved the world. That other boy though, need a stern lesson. He had malicious eyes and a mischievous nature for one so young, but if Petunia was firm, then she would have a model nephew. After all, if a firm hand helped her train her prize winning bulldogs, then it would do so with that disturbing child of Petunia's sister. Not Petunia's fault of course, there was always a bad one in the litter.

Harry Potter, Petunia nephew by her sister, couldn't be more thrilled, bored and despondent than he was right now. He was ecstatic that he got to escape his family today, but his aunt and uncle had left him with the most boring old lady. Her name was Mrs. Figg and she was really nice. She let him eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, but she smelled of cabbages and had way too many cats. She finally finished her third lesson on how to take special care of her fifteen cats and had settled down with a cup of tea for her afternoon show. Within minutes she was dozing and Harry quickly left the house to walk to the park. She said she didn't mind if he went to the park when he visited her.

Harry was really upset over the news his aunt and uncle relayed to him. In school, they were going over family trees, like who their parents and grandparents were. That was when Harry realized he had an aunt and uncle, not a mum and dad.

He knew his family was different, because everyone's parents were nicer than his aunt and uncle, but he didn't understand why. So when he tried to ask about his parents and grandparents for his project, the conversation turned to Harry asking where his parents were and if they were going to come for him. Uncle Vernon quickly told him no and why.

What was he supposed to do? He didn't have a Mummy or Daddy, and his Aunt and Uncle weren't really happy with his parents it sounded like. They weren't really happy with him either, really.

Harry continued to wander down the road to the local park and continued thinking about his project. Those thoughts soon turned to daydreams about what a good family looked like. A lot of his classmates had really nice and fun parents. They gave hugs, went shopping for clothes, and went to the amusement park that Dudley was going to for his birthday. Maybe he can ask someone at school to take him home? Someone that would want him, unlike Uncle Vernon. Harry didn't know how he was going to ask anyone though. No one liked him, and Dudley made that difficult. He would hit or cry and get the other kids in trouble if they tried to play with Harry. Uncle Vernon didn't think Harry should have friends, so Dudley made sure Harry didn't to make his dad happy.

Sighing, Harry kept staring at the pavement until he bumped into a pair of legs. Falling backwards, Harry sniffled to keep himself from crying, and looked up to see who he bumped into. It was a lady that he had never seen in the neighbourhood before. She had curly auburn hair and eyes the same colour as his! She was dressed like those women Uncle Vernon worked with, a black skirt and blazer with black heels.

The lady peered curiously at the small boy that bumped into her. She was thankful he hadn't cried yet, but she hoped she didn't scare him either. "Hey, you okay?" Harry nodded to her. Intrigued with his meek attitude, she asked, "Do you need help getting up?" Harry shook his head and quickly stood up on his own. Something was different about her to Harry.

"I haven't seen you before," he told her.

Smiling softly, the lady replied, "I'm looking for a flat to share, but I think I may be in the wrong neighbourhood."

"Why?"

"Because I was told to go to Derby Row to look for a place."

Harry couldn't believe this lady was actually speaking kindly to him and about her grown up concerns. He couldn't stop himself from asking her questions. "Why would you want to live there? It's very loud on Saturday nights and my uncle says hooligans live on that road. You don't look like a hooligan."

Smirking and loving the bluntness of innocence, the woman responded, "I think your uncle doesn't have a good opinion of university students and I don't blame him, but unfortunately, that's what I can afford." _Or what my boss tells me to afford. Keep an eye on the eccentric brother, lovely sir. _

"Why would you want to afford to live there?"

"I don't think anyone wants to live anywhere they can only afford, kid, but that's life," _Maybe that was too serious and bitter. I am so not good at this. _"What's your name? I think I must be keeping you from doing something important if you didn't see me when you were walking."

Harry blushed before he mumbled, "My name is Harry and I was just going to the park to the swings."

The lady with the same colour eyes as his smiled adoringly at him and held out her hand to shake. "Hello Harry. My name is Marina and visiting the swings in the park is very important business. In fact, I am tired from looking around for Derby Row and would love to go to the park with you. Will that be okay that I swing with you? Are you parents or friends waiting for you at the park?"

Harry looked up brightly and thusly told her no, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him the next three meters to the park entrance. Giggling, Marina had to hold him back so she could take off her heels before he continued to drag her to the swings in the playground. Harry could only hope to swing with this nice lady for an hour before he had to go back to Mrs. Figg's place.

When they got to the swings, Marina insisted he get on the swing first so she could push him. She actually wanted to help him see if he could fly! Harry was very happy with this prospect and laughed loudly with exuberance as he got higher and higher. He could almost fly with how high his swing was going! In fact, Harry wanted to fly so badly, that he let go of the swings much to Marina's fright then surprise. She was surprised, because instead of falling with gravity quite quickly to the ground for a little five year old, he floated a few feet before gradually descending, laughing with pure delight. "That was so much fun! Let's do it again!"

They kept playing on swings like that for a while, then Harry pulled her to the sandbox to build a big castle. He wanted to build a big pretty castle with a roof the same colour as their eyes and when he touched the sand, it turned emerald green! He was so amazed by it and happy that he was able to build the castle he wanted for Marina. He turned to Marina and gladly displayed his artwork, much to her delight and shock.

Marina knew Harry had magic when she sensed it as he bumped into her. She also knew, children had a hard time controlling magic. Magic and the very fairy tales that mortals read to their children were real, but hidden. Persecution and jealousy is a dangerous attitude, so many races and societies went underground and formed their own secret conclaves around the world to get away from such prejudices. In secrecy, they grew strong and those that didn't adhere to their respective societal laws, suffered for it. Whether their magic was taken or if the perpetrator was a supernatural race, imprisonment or death. However, what was known as accidental magic, magic caused by strong emotions, were usually excused. Especially among children, because they were learning control over their emotions. So Marina let the gliding in the air when he jumped from the swing go, because the boy looked like he needed to smile more and that can be easily explained to the mortals. Green sand in the shape of an elaborate castle that he moulded with his hands and no tools, was a bit harder to explain. Trying to demonstrate how happy she was with his work quickly, while grateful that no one was in this area of the park at the time to witness this phenomenon, Marina gave Harry a big hug. Unfortunately, he immediately stopped laughing.

"Harry, what's wrong," Marina asked as she sat him down. She turned him to face her and noticed his eyes were shocked but he was smiling brilliantly. Why was a kid shocked with a hug?

"Nothing, I'm glad you like it so much! Come on! Let's see what else we can do."

Still surprised with his surprise for a hug, Marina had to pull back and tell him it was best if they left. "It's almost time for dinner and I'm sure your family must be worried. Why don't we head back to your place?"

Still happy that Marina was happy with him, but sad that she was right that it was probably time to leave, Harry agreed and pulled her away from the sandbox. When Harry turned the corner, Marina waved her hand in the direction of the sandbox to disperse the sand and turn it back to its original colour without Harry seeing. As they walked towards Mrs. Figg's house, Harry became more subdued and gentle, while answering Marina's questions about what he was learning at school. Noticing this, Marina knocked on the door of the house without a word to Harry.

She was expecting to see someone with a strong personality that could change a child's manner so quickly, but instead she saw a lady answer the door with grey hair pulled back, hunched over with a cat in her arms and one around her shoulders. Gathering herself together, Marina greeted the lady before she could say anything, "Hello, my name is Marina and I met Harry here while I was trying to find Derby Row for a flat share I was told about. He was heading to the park and was kind enough to let me tag along. He's a really happy, excitable and kind young man. You have great grandson."

Flustered a bit by the forwardness of this young woman, Mrs. Figg tried to straighten herself a bit and put down one of the cats as she replied, "Well thank you for bringing Harry back, Miss Marina, but I am not his grandmother. I was looking after the lovely boy for the day, but I'm glad he got out of the house. I'll let his aunt and uncle know that you said such lovely things about him. Harry, come on in. I just finished the stew."

"Can she stay?" Harry hoped he didn't get into a lot trouble by asking that, it just popped out!

Blinking quickly and startled that Harry even asked for something for himself, even if that was a person, Mrs. Figg smiled brightly at the young woman the boy was so taken with and told her, "Sure! Please do come in and maybe I can talk you away from that awful street. Really, you look like a professional young lady and shouldn't need to live near university students again. Who were you going to visit about a flat?" Mrs. Figg kept pushing the girl inside so her cats wouldn't escape. Who was this woman that could pull the little boy just a little bit out of his shell that his aunt and uncle made him build?

Startled and slightly reluctant about the whole evening, Marina told her, "I was hoping to see Laoise about –"

"Oh you're her niece! That old crone has been talking up a storm about you and how excited she is you're moving back in with family. Have you really been all over the world and you're only 25 years old?" Laoise was a respectable non-magical woman with an equally respectable and hardworking non-magical family. Maybe Mrs. Figg didn't have to report about this young girl's involvement with Harry to Headmaster Dumbledore. He was an intelligent wizard from the British Wizarding Conclave that has taught for many years and knew Harry's parents personally, considering he taught and worked with them before. He has been concerned about Harry after little Harry's parents deaths, and concerned about who interacts with him. Shame he never comes see the boy himself, but Headmaster Dumbledore was a busy man.

"I'm actually 20," Marina mumbled, catching Harry's eye when Mrs. Figg turned her back on them to lead them to the kitchen for dinner. They smiled at the personality that was Mrs. Figg, while trying not to step on one of her cats. Mrs. Figg yammered to them about what a great thing youth was and how exciting things must be as she moved about her kitchen and ordered them to sit down. In between finishing the stew, Mrs. Figg and Marina fed the fifteen cats before finally sitting down to eat. As they took the first bites, Marina commented on how delicious the meal was, while Harry scrunched his nose at her before continuing to eat. The conversation was light, simple and mundane, but as they neared the end of their meal, Mrs. Figg said she wanted to hear a story.

"Tell me about all those places you've seen. Or tell me a wild romance young lady. Oh, please put the dishes in the sink, I'll get to them –"

"Don't worry, I'll clean them. Please, take care of your cats and go sit down comfortably. Then I shall tell a story, a fun story," Marina told her, but mostly to Harry as he handed her the last of the dishes. Agreeing, Mrs. Figg did as suggested and asked Harry to follow her to the couch.

"A good story is exactly what we need to end this evening before your aunt and uncle get home. She's such a lovely girl. This should be a treat!" Harry smiled indulgently as he helped Mrs. Figg, then waited to settle himself as Marina came in. When she sat down, Harry joined her, quite happy with how the day turned out.

"I must admit, I'm surprised you've entertained me for so long Mrs. Figg. I greatly appreciate the lovely dinner and hospitality you've shown me. Now you're letting me tell a story?"

"Oh dear. Stories are a good way to learn about a person. About their pasts, their hopes, dreams and desires. A story can give you a glimpse into a person's beliefs and attitudes. So yes, a good story is perfect for an evening like tonight and these old bones. Besides, I trust that aunt of yours, Miss Laoise. She hasn't steered me wrong yet and has only spoken well of the niece coming home. Seems young Mr. Potter has enjoyed your company too, so that's good enough for me. Now, what story are you going to share this evening?"


	3. Daily Struggles

**AN: No, I do not own Sir Doyle's works or Mrs. Rowling's. This is a fanfiction site. I would think that would be obvious. Also, I actually didn't want to write this chapter. Mostly trying to show I'm not jumping in with the story. Trying to make it more believable. Yeah...that didn't work out.**

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><p>Harry woke up in his bed, in the room under the stairs. He was not a morning person. First he was groggy, then he couldn't see his surroundings. Grumpy, he stretched and put on his glasses, before getting dressed to start his Monday morning with his Aunt Petunia.<p>

He was five years old, after all. Old enough to help around the house. Although, he never saw Dudley help, unless it was helping his father tease Harry. It wasn't nice, even if Harry thought Dudley was only copying his father to get praise. Harry even tried to get praise from Uncle Vernon, by doing everything he was told, but he never heard anything as kind as what he told his son. Did it have something to do with his dad and the car accident?

As Harry left the room and closed the door quietly, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a towel. Running the towel under warm water and a little cleaner, Harry stepped backed, wringed it, then proceeded to wipe down everything he could reach.

Harry really hoped Aunt Petunia woke up first today. There was one weekend when Uncle Vernon woke up early and saw that Harry didn't wipe down _everything._ His face turned purple, he yelled a lot, and sent Harry to his room without supper after he had to scrub the whole house. That wasn't a fun day.

Aunt Petunia was usually the first one up. She would start cooking breakfast and then take over cleaning from Harry before Uncle Vernon woke up. However, last night, the Dursleys came home late and it sounded like she was starting her shower now. Harry might have to try to clean more of the kitchen and parlour after all. He hated cleaning tall things. He fell, from trying to reach things, three times before!

Harry thought about how late the Dursleys came in. They were laughing and spoke of all the things they saw with Dudley for his birthday. Harry thought a lot of it sounded really fun and he wanted try going sometime, but he knew he never would. Even Mrs. Figg made that face she always made at the Dursleys, when they did something she knew Harry would never experience. Maybe that was why she always tried to make him eat? Carrot cake and ginger biscuits with tea. He really didn't understand the Cabbage-Cat Lady.

However, this time, Harry was really happy the Dursleys came back so late. He was able to hear all of Marina's story and she played a card game with him! It was such an interesting story, although, Mrs. Figg fell asleep halfway through. How can someone fall asleep through a story about dragons? Anyways, Marina stayed to play cards with him while Mrs. Figg slept, until his aunt and uncle came to pick him up.

When they came to pick him up, they weren't too thrilled about meeting her. Harry didn't care, he really hoped to see her again, especially now that he knew she lived nearby and she promised she would visit Mrs. Figg. Maybe staying at Mrs. Figg's place wouldn't be so bad if he got to see Marina again. However, right now, he had to finish cleaning, help with breakfast, clean up after breakfast, start on the garden, then lunch. After that, he was free for a couple of hours and they would finally see Marge off, before heading out to some dinner his Uncle needed to attend for work. Yep, today was going to be a bad day and the sun was definitely shining brightly to mock him.

Marina was thinking something similar to Harry's sentiments around tea time, while she was waiting for her boss. After Harry left the night before, she confronted Mrs. Figg about the Dursleys. Apparently the woman greatly disliked the family and loved to gossip, so she spent a few more hours with Mrs. Figg and her cats. With many cups of tea.

They didn't treat him right. He really did feel malnourished when she held him in her lap, when she was telling a sanitized metaphorical tale about a battle from long ago. He was starving for love that was for sure. There was something about the boy that drew her too him. Whether it was his magic, latent fae needs to nurture a child or fate, she didn't know nor care. Although, it could definitely be the latter, because she wondered what his normal day was like. When and what did he eat? Did he play? Did he have friends? Did he even get a birthday party, because it sounded like from Mrs. Figg that there was always a big thing to do for Harry's cousin, but never just for Harry. Apparently his parents died in a tragic accident, something magical the way Mrs. Figg hedged.

The woman's inability to access her magic was plainly obvious by the mundane gestures that came naturally to her. Mrs. Figg's magical core wasn't even pulsating as if she used it regularly. This made Marina really sad and reminded her why she stayed out of the wizarding conclaves. Their narrow minded societies usually smothered all the magic out, because they weren't willing to look elsewhere. Too foreign, too alien, too different.

The conclaves were diminishing. Mongolia actually had only fifty witches and wizards left in their conclave! The three children were sent to the Chinese conclaves to study, and the elder generation did nothing to look into how they could encourage more magic in their community. They looked at why. War, foreign suppression and deception minimized a lot of magical use and destroyed a lot of their texts, but that didn't help the magic grow. They gave up. Like they were beginning to give up in parts of Africa, in the Philippines and Costa Rica.

Other societies were still holding out steadily, but their numbers had definitely decreased from over 200 years ago, and yes, a lot of that was war, but so many societies were holding onto traditions and mitigating public displays. Europe, the Middle East, Russia, Central Asia and parts of Africa held fast to tradition and adapting tradition to modern sensibilities, but they weren't adapting magic or magical use. In most parts of the Americas, Australia and Asia, they were trying to adapt. They were making magic more accessible and easy to maintain during daily life, looking at traditional ways of teaching as well as ancient methods with new perceptions on those methods, but that was a double bladed sword. Both concepts were.

Tradition with a modern sense, didn't allow magic to grow. Those that didn't show great bursts of magic or couldn't follow along were told they didn't have magic. In the more adaptive, or technically mundane assimilated societies, magic became a second life or a hobby to a lot of the population. It wasn't life. Without trying to collaborate the two, letting politics and sentiments moderate discussion, brought on the current situation that none in the wizarding conclaves were willing to admit: magic was dying.

With magic dying, many of the races were pulling into the other realms to save knowledge and themselves. The races that wanted to listen to the call of the open doors that is.

Which as much Marina complained about magic dying in this realm, she wasn't helping rectify the issue. She ran from the conclaves, not being able to agree with their societal structures and education, but also not willing to help out. She believed that if separation was necessary, then why not disappear into the other realms? Marina was more like her fae family, whom she ran to be educated by and live with, than she actually was as a witch. At least, that was the excuse she gave herself on why she never ventured back into the conclaves if she could help it. Or why her opinions were focused on magic being open and public, rather than hidden and if it was to be hidden, then it should be completely hidden for everyone's safety. It's why she stayed in this realm. To be a guide for those that wanted to leave and live openly and freely.

Now there was this boy, Harry, which drew her like a moth to a flame. A boy that she wanted to see grow and pulsate with love, rather than self-loathing and despair. He was only five, soon turning six! If he continued on this track, then she could foresee an unstable future for him, even if he was pure good. There was nothing she could legally do for him, except hope she ran into him more often in the neighbourhood.

_Sure, that'll go over well. A twenty-something girl interested in playing with a kid. Either my ovaries exploded, or I'm a pervert. I shouldn't try to seek him out. _

Suddenly, the mahogany door opened to reveal her boss. A tall, pale, stout man with brown hair and dark eyes. She immediately stepped in line behind him, working on some documents and rotation schedules on her Blackberry, as he continued his conversation with the civil servants. They finally stepped back when her boss made a few sharp remarks and they headed down the hallway to exit the building.

"Tell me, where were you yesterday that made you check in ten hours later than planned?" her boss coolly asked.

Marina blushed. She knew her boss knew the answer, the problem was saying out loud what he knew. "The home of Talisha MacFarland is an unassuming property in suburban obscurity, which lead me to a chance encounter that may bring ancient personal habits to fruition."

"You were lost and met a magical child by Fate?" Her boss simplified.

Embarrassed, Marina muttered, "Yes, sir." She knew he was annoyed.

"Did you not recollect that it may be of interest that you were in that home at the appropriate time, for a reason?"

"Sir, I've had intelligence on your brother the moment you propositioned me to move in with Ms. MacFarland. The last report had stated that he was…entertaining another experiment 14 hours before I was due to arrive, leaving me 16 – 26 hours before he could return. Despite my personal delay, and I am terribly sorry that I let myself get lost in the most mundane sense sir, but I did have a six hour margin. If I was to meet Ms. MacFarland, then she has been in Greece this past week."

Her boss nodded, but his mouth twitched. She missed something. What did she not see, that he did? "Good. Then explain why the boy made an elaborate sand castle of emerald green in a sand box of regular sand."

Marina slightly faltered. She knew her boss kept extensive reports on all employees, but she had not seen anyone in the area nor felt them! "Sir…"

"Russian satellites have been trained on the area, figuring my brother is causing some sort of scandal of intelligence again. I happened to hack into them before they noticed the image of you, and your magical counterpart, but I noticed. There is yet to be proof that any others may have been looking in the area on my brother."

"Sir, the Americans?"

"For now, we have a truce. I will manage him. I sent you to do so, but be aware of not only hidden curiosities, but the more mundane as well."

"Yes sir, thank you Mr. Holmes," Marina told her stoic boss. This is why she worked for him. He protected, and annoyed her, every day. He was an interestingly intelligent man that could make any fae child curious.

Due to her own eccentricities, and the government secrets that Mycroft Holmes was aware of, he allowed her to work with him. He knew there was supernatural phenomenon that occurred in the world, but it was mostly hidden and he kept an open repertoire with certain individuals to insure it continued to be hidden from the mundane. This was why "Marina" was offered a position to work for him, because she could be of use as a supernatural presence in certain situations.

Or Marina would've kept showing up at his office without any reason to do so, like she did between the time she first met Mycroft Holmes and when he finally offered her a position as a secretary "-to annoy in a more useful and proactive application, than this distracting and inefficient lifestyle." Marina still couldn't stop giggling whenever she thought of all the pranks and general interruptions she pulled on him to finally be accepted in his world. She may be young, but she was mostly fae and lived fae.

She may not have been as intelligent as him, but she was clever enough and more powerful than him than she would like to admit. She was interested in how he interacted with the world around him, respected him, in need of a purpose, and willing to learn. He saved her unknowingly one day and was in need of someone to remind him how to appear more human, which ironically, she was able to help with. So they suffered one another for their mutual bemusement.

"Due to this satellite situation and other precious whispers, when my brother returns, I wish for you to ingratiate yourself with him whenever I don't have you on another assignment. He will realize what you are in a second-"

"He knows about the super-" Marina had interrupted Mycroft in concern when he then interrupted her too.

"He will see that you are my spy. Let him know, let him posture, let him try to tear you apart." Something that still annoyed Mycroft that he could do little in verbally tearing Marina apart and he suspected it had something to do with her fae peculiarities. After all, never cross swords, verbal or physical, with a fae. Then again, his brother had a talent that surpassed his, to get under people's skin. "For all this grandstanding my brother will do, he will also take the hint that if I'm concerned with what he is doing and being open about it, then for the sake of his privacy, he better scale it back. I would also like for reports to come in on his whereabouts when he goes off on another one of his ideas!"

Nodding, Marina listened and started thinking of various secondary data that would need to be coagulated as well. However, with this increase need to watch over his brother, Marina asked, "Sir, the technology and agents available for this assignment will not sufficiently cover what needs to be done in the long term. May I suggest officially putting him on a Level 2 surveillance?"

"If it needs to be done, do so," Mycroft told Marina as they both slid into the waiting car. The chauffeur shut their door, got into the car and drove off to their next appointment.


End file.
